Chapter 295 

Irene flipped her phone over, sencing Thomas’s call. She stared at Her hands for a moment, the weight of Adam’s unfinished question still hanging between them. 

Are you okay with it? 

The car went quiet, their almost conversation suspended in mid–air, 

She took a breath, heart hammering. “I don’t mind,” she finally said, ips curving into a small smile. “The kids like you. Anyone with a pulse can see that.” 

Adam’s eyes searched hers, digging for something deeper, “Just the kids?” His voice dropped low, rough around the edges. 

Her phone buzzed against the leather seat before she could answer. With a mix of relief and frustration, she glanced down to see three selfies of the triplets with ridiculous pouts and wide eyes: “HURRY UP! Ice cream melting! Emergency!!! 

‘Looks like DEFCON 1 at the ice cream shop,” she said, tilting the screen his way. 

Adam’s mouth quirked, disappointment flashing across his face for just.a second. Whatever moment they’d been building had slipped through their fingers–for now. 

“Better hurry before Lucas starts a riot,” he said as they pulled up to the bright Sparkle Ice Cream Shop sign. 

As they pulled into a spot, Irene caught herself wondering what she might have said without the interruption. Just thinking about it made her face heat up. 

Lucas spotted them the moment they walked in, practically bouncing out of his chair. “You came!” 

Brandon twisted around, all fake surprise. “Well, well, perfect timing Art show over already?” 

Irene shot him a knowing look as she slid into the seat Lucas was frantically patting. 

“Mom, you’ve gotta try this,” Alex pushed his glasses up. “Salted caramel that actually tastes like both salt and caramel.” 

Adam wheeled up beside Lily, who immediately thrust her ice cream masterpiece toward him–vanilla buried under a mountain‘ of every topping the shop offered. 

“Uncle Adam, check it out! Same sprinkles as the island!” Lily bounced so hard her chair squeaked. 

Adam ordered dark chocolate and let himself get pulled into the kids rapid–fire questions about sea turtles and when–not if- they return to the island. 

“Next time Uncle Adam’s taking us to see the reef,” Lily announced with the confidence of someone holding a signed contract. “He says it’s like an underwater rainbow!” 

Lucas licked his spoon clean. “Did you hit the beach a lot when you were little?” 

Something shifted behind Adam’s eyes. “Not really,” he admitted. “Haven trips were more about boardrooms than boogie boards.” 

“NO WAY! Lucas’s jaw dropped like Adam had just confessed to being raised by wolves. “You never went to the beach? Like, ever?” 

Adam laughed, but Irene caught the shadow that passed across his face. “Different families, different playbooks,” he said simply. 

The triplets exchanged horrified glances like they’d just discovered a tragic backstory. 

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Irene’s phone lit up with Matthew’s name: Hope today’s exhibition sparked your interest. Next time just the two of us? 

Adam’s eyes flicked to her screen, his expression neutral save for a ty muscle jumping in his jaw.. 

She typed quickly: “Thanks for today. Exhibition was great. We’ll see about next time.” 

Shortly after, Adam’s phone chimed. Irene caught Matthew’s name and a snippet: “Next time Irene and I have plans, surely Mr. Haven will be too busy to tag along?” 

Adam’s reply came swift and confident: “I have no interest in crashing Dr. Hayes‘ party.” 

Almost immediately, Irene received another text: “By the way, swing by the hospital when you can. The welfare kids keep asking about 

you. 

She sent back a simple: “I’ll stop by soon.” 

Brandon returned, glancing between them. “You two sending nuclear codes or something?” 

“Just work stuff,” Irene tucked her phone away. 

“We should all head back,” she added quickly. “Early day tomorrow.” 

Lucas groaned like she’d just banned video games forever. “But we barely got to hang with Uncle Adam!” 

“Rain check, buddy,” Adam ruffled Lucas’s hair. “Got some things to wrap up tonight anyway.” 

The three identical pouts that followed were so over–the–top dramatic that Irene had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing. 

Back home that night, the triplets cornered her in the living room. 

“So,” Lucas started, failing spectacularly at looking innocent, “how was all that boring art stuff?” 

Irene narrowed her eyes, gently pinching his cheeks. “Thanks to you three, it was surprisingly entertaining.” 

“We didn’t do anything!” Lily protested with wide eyes. “We were with Uncle Brandon, right Uncle B?” 

“Don’t drag me under the bus,” Brandon called from the couch. 

“I know you like him,” Irene said softly, her irritation melting away. “But you can’t play matchmaker with grown–ups.” 

“But- Lucas started. 

“No buts,” she cut him off. “And if I find out you’re lying to me…” 

The guilty glances they exchanged said it all. 

At dinner, they begged her to retell island stories, especially about the night she and Adam watched stars together. Their not–so- subtle fishing for Adam–related details was so transparent she could only shake her head. 

Her three little cupids weren’t giving up anytime soon. 

Miles away, alone in his training room, Adam pushed himself up from his wheelchair. He’d killed all monitoring systems, locked down his privacy for this nightly ritual. 

First, he gripped the parallel bars, knuckles white with effort. The timer ticked as he held himself upright, muscles shaking but 

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solid. Thirty seconds–his current record for supported standing. 

Tonight called for more. 

Slowly, deliberately, he let go of the bars. His legs trembled but did buckle. His forehead wrinkled with focus, sweat dotting his skin as he counted in his head. 

Five… ten… fifteen… 

At fifteen seconds, a ghost of a smile touched his lips before he carefully lowered back into his chair. Better, but nowhere near enough. 

After catching his breath, he eyed the bars again. This time, he’d push further. 

Rising once more, he steadied himself before attempting what doctors claimed was months away. With agonizing slowness, he lifted his right foot. The movement was tiny–barely off the ground–but it was a step. His first real step in forever. 

His leg hurt like crazyyhen he put it down, reminding him why he kept this a secret. Irene would flip out if she knew he was pushing himself like this. 

But some things were worth the risk. 

Finished with his workout, he wheeled to his desk and flipped his calendar open. His eyes lingered on a date circled in red, now just weeks away. 

He grabbed his phone and dialed. 

“Did you get it?” he asked the moment Thomas answered. 

“Yes, sir. The auction confirmed the purchase. The seascape arrives tomorrow.” 

“Frame it right,” Adam said, his voice softening as he remembered how Irene’s face had lit up at that painting. “And Thomas? Not a word to anyone.” 

“Never left my lips, sir.” 

Adam ended the call, leaning back with a satisfied exhale. Thirty seconds standing wasn’t nearly enough–not for what he had planned. But he was getting there. 

One painful step at a time. 

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